Seven remained in the huddled position, eyes trained on the fissures of the ground. Feeling as if he had failed, as if he had lost. As he was in his self wallow, a gust of wind blew out of the cave, followed by a high pitched screech as a giant white bird shot from the opening and slammed into Seven. Seven was knocked back several feet, flying through the air and slamming into the ground and rolling through the trees onto the open plateau.
Seven attempted to get to his feet, but was knocked over again by the pale winged avian. No matter how many times Seven attempted to get to his feet, the creature continued to swoop in at terrifying speeds. Its only goal seemed to be keeping Seven down.
Seven drew in a slow, deliberate breath and tried to rise again. He lifted his head at a snail's pace. As with every other time prior, he was knocked back into the snow with a heavy yet dull shove.
Seven remained still this time. He was bone-tired and scared. The cold seeped deep into the core of his body as the biting winds and snow embraced him from above and below. His breathing became slower, steadier. His trembling came from cold rather than fear, and his thoughts slowly drifted from anxiety.
The air above him cracked as a buffet of wind rolled over his body. Shortly after, he was hit in the head by an object. Without lifting his head, Seven turned to look at what hit him. One of the cool blue fruits he had eaten earlier was now resting in the snow in front of him. The pale winged avian was standing in the middle of the grove, staring at Seven cautiously.
Seven studied the creature for a moment. It was unmistakably a raven — only far larger, far older in presence. Its eyes were sharp green and burned with intelligence. Its beak curved downward in a slight hook, and pale feathers carried a glossy sheen. Seven took a deep breath and rose slowly, watching the Pale Raven as he did. The Raven did not react, only watched, as if judging Seven's intention. As soon as Seven stood, the Raven rose up, wings outstretched, ready to take flight again.
Seven dropped to his knees and sat down. The Raven lowered its wings and returned to its watchful and evaluating gaze. Seven grabbed the fruit, watching the Raven as he did so, not daring to break eye contact. The Raven shifted slightly but remained otherwise unaffected. Seven peeled the skin away exposing the white flesh beneath. Juice dulled the chill in his fingers as he gently pulled it apart. Seven ate half and pushed the other towards the Raven.
In response, the Raven plucked another and ate it whole. Seven sighed, reaching forward to grab the offering. The Raven bristled, its feathers raising, as if saying, 'I didn't say I didn't want it.'. Seven retracted his arm and sat still, watching the Raven just as the Raven watched him. The wind blew drifts of snow between the two stubborn occupants on the uninhabitable peak.
The cold increased in its ferocity, as if offended by the mere existence of their lives. The wind howled, announcing its hostile intentions as it ripped its bitter cold tendrils into Seven. As it did, the Raven ripped another fruit off one of the trees with its beak and tossed it at Seven, deliberately making sure it hit him in the face. Though it didn't hurt due to the numbing cold, it stung Seven's pride.
It turned into a pattern. Watching, biting cold, fruit to the face, eat the fruit, and repeat. Neither moved from their spot, the offering mound became larger and larger. Eventually, Seven felt peace while sitting across the Raven. The Raven seemed to mirror the feeling, resting on the snow instead of standing. Seven's breathing had stabilized, the cold didn't bite, but rather felt like a comfort as it circulated within him.
Seven came to an understanding, a sudden realization as he understood another element. Slowly he enveloped a single finger in ice and gave the Raven the Bird with a defiant grin. The Raven shook its head, stood, ripped a branch of Fruits off and walked towards Seven, stopping briefly to pick up another object in between, stuffing it into its feathers. Seven was unable to see what it was as the wind blew a thick dusting of snow between them at that moment.
The Raven dropped the branch in front of him and resumed their silent routine, eating from the pile between them. Seven gave a slight smirk, keeping eye contact, but now it was less of a watchful standoff. Now it felt like a mutual understanding, a recognition of will. Seven ate the fruits on the branch happily. The refreshingly tangy sweetness now added a feeling of cleansing.
He could now see himself reflected in the sharp green eyes of the Raven. His long dark auburn hair reminded him of Melrod, they both swore to have long hair to seem more like brothers than friends. Seven used the chance to test his abilities with ice and formed a blade of ice. He grabbed his hair up, placed the blade under it, and quickly cut the foot and a half long length off. The Raven stared at the hair then back up at Seven.
The Raven turned its head and reached into its feathers, pulling the piece of Glacial Iron that Seven had desperately wanted and laid it at his knees. Without needing words or gestures, Seven understood that the Raven wanted to trade. Seven looked at the Iron and back at the hair. In his mind, it wasn't a fair trade, so he began braiding the hair using the three mana affinities he had control over.
Using ice as the control, wind as the movement and earth as the bonding, he created a strong braid bound by his mana. Everything he had learned, patience, discipline, and rediscovery of self. The Raven took the braid in its beak and closed its eyes for the first time and Seven bowed his head in return. Things neither of them would do again. Time seemed to stand still, warmth filled the air around them. The wind circumvented the small area, the snow beneath melted and a small purple Orchid blossomed. Seven knelt, plucked the orchid and attached it to the braid.
The Mana in the atmosphere reacted, absorbing into the braid. In a brief yet beautiful instant, the braid dissolved into light, flowing into both of them. The wind returned, the snow drifted over the empty ground, and the cold stole away the warmth. On the chest of the Raven was a single purple feather, and branded on Seven's arm, next to the seven, was a small purple Orchid. And with that image and all that Seven had experienced, a name followed.
"Valorie." He announced proudly yet quietly. The only witnesses were the two present, and the wind that carried it away.